


Secret Santa

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: Merry Christmas, Baby [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Holidays, Secret Santa, past Ian/Darcy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-23 18:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Darcy's first weeks at SHIELD are going--mostly--okay: she and Jane survived the Christmas party, their Secret Santa gifts are really, really good, and Darcy's meeting her new coworkers and adjusting to life at a federal agency full of jack-booted thugs. But when Ian suddenly dumps her from overseas, Darcy's Secret Santa decides to act. He seems to know her likes and dislikes really well, but who is he?





	1. Hey, Santa!

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing!

“Hold the elevator, Jim!” Darcy called, towing a sleepy Jane by the elbow across the lobby at the new SHIELD headquarters and pushing the cart she’d snagged from deliveries at the loading zone. The tech analyst grinned at the two women and pressed the door open button.

“Too much fun at the Christmas party?” he asked politely, looking at Jane. He helped Darcy with the cart as Darcy leaned Jane against the elevator.

“Mmmphf,” Jane said, listing slightly to one side.

“I think she got carried away since it was our first SHIELD Christmas party,” Darcy said. They’d only been at SHIELD for two weeks. “She attempted to outdrink Natasha Romanoff,” Darcy explained, gently placing a cup of coffee in both of Jane’s hands. Jane drank it like a baby and then Darcy pried it away again.

“Oh, that’s a mistake,” Jim said. “Never try to outdrink a Russian.” Darcy nodded and mouthed _yes way._ Jane glared at Jim a little, then shifted her dark expression to Darcy.

“Give it back!” Jane muttered. She held her hands out for the coffee.

“Are you confident you won’t spill?” Darcy asked seriously.

“Nooooo,” Jane whined. “Fine, bitch.”

“I’m going to forgive that, simply because I’m a forgiving person and I know exactly how much vodka you drank last night,” Darcy said. Jane groaned.

“Don’t say vodka. Never say vodka again,” Jane said morosely.

“Yes, your majesty,” Darcy joked. She teased Jane about being the next Queen of Asgard.

“If he’d ever stop Avenging with Steve and spend time with me,” Jane said sadly. Her eyes turned a little glassy.

“No! No hangover crying. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to joke--” Darcy began frantically.

“He’s always hitting things with the hammer,” Jane sobbed.

“Oh, no,” Jim said, alarmed and backing up slightly

“Honey, they need him to save the world!” Darcy said. “I’m sure he’d spend all his time with you if he could, there’s just all these people wanting to destroy the fabric of space and time or invade Vanaheim--” Jane sobbed harder.

“Don’t say Vanaheim! Odin kept him there for two months. Two months!” Jane said.

"Janey--" Darcy said comfortingly.

“I know that one-eyed old coot did it on purpose! Odin hates me. On purpose!” Jane hissed. “He’ll never propose. I’ll be forty and still _waiting_ for Thor to remember, hey, Jane exists. He goes off on all these adventures and does he even carry my picture? Noooooo.” Jane hiccupped. “I don’t even think he mentions me half the time, it’s like I don’t exist.”

“Uh-oh,” Darcy said. That was the  hiccup that signaled future vomiting.

“Natasha told me that Steve carries a picture of Peggy _everywhere_ ,” Jane said.

“Awwwww,” Darcy said.

“Have you met Cap?” Jim asked, trying to be polite and merely sounding nervous.

“Only very briefly last week, otherwise, we've just seen him on television like everybody else,” Darcy said. Steve had waved at them politely as Thor boarded that quinjet, too.

“Because my boyfriend doesn’t ask me to Tony Stark’s parties, obviously,” Jane said. “Helen Cho keeps sending me little passive aggressive emails, talking about _how nice_ my boyfriend is. I know she flirted with him at that party!”

“Janey, you were _working._ You love work!” Darcy cajoled.

“It doesn’t keep you warm at night,” Jane said morosely. The elevator doors opened and several SHIELD agents looked at them quizzically when they didn’t immediately step off.

“I’m sure that’s not technically true. Remember when you fell asleep with your face on that projector? Your cheek was all pink,” Darcy said, negotiating her cart and Jane off the elevator. Two guys in all black helped her with the cart. She recognized them vaguely from her first day in the building; they’d been talking to Fury when she and Jane arrived.

“Need a hand with this cart, miss?” one of them said. He had an Australian accent. The guy next to him was already rolling it out of Darcy’s hands.

“That would be so helpful, thanks,” Darcy said. “I’m Darcy Lewis, this is Dr. Jane Foster.”

“Jack Rollins,” the Australian said. “This is Brock Rumlow.” The Rumlow guy nodded. Rollins had a terrifying face, Darcy thought, but he seemed very polite.

“What do you guys do around here?” Darcy asked. She’d only met a few people: Fury, of course, Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff, a very nice agent named Sharon Carter, that Steve sighting, and a bunch of the really nice tech analysts, researchers, archivists, and half of legal. It was a little daunting, if Darcy was honest. She tried to be breezy. SHIELD was huge. She was used to it just being her and Jane in observatories, where there were fewer new people to meet with each move. And the astrophysics community wasn’t all that large, anyhow. But she could practically disappear into this office complex, it was so bustling and active.

“STRIKE Alpha,” Rumlow said. Darcy looked at him a little closely. There were deep scars around his right eye and he had a cauliflower ear, probably from sports, she thought, but otherwise he was very handsome. Something nagged at her mind….

“Wait,” Jane said, rousing briefly in Darcy’s arms, “if you’re STRIKE Alpha, is Thor back?” That was Steve and Natasha’s team. Thor had subbed in for her so she could go to the Christmas party, Darcy knew.

“Yes ma’am,” Rollins said politely. “We just got back, what?” He looked at the other man.

“About ten minutes ago,” Rumlow supplied. Jane practically flung herself out of Darcy’s arms and ran to the elevator.

“Have fun!” Darcy called.

“Quinjet’s in Zone B,” Rumlow called, actually smirking as Jane bailed on the elevator and went for the stairwell. “She knows this place is twenty floors, right?”

“She’ll figure it out,” Darcy said.

 

They helped her get her stuff into the lab. Jane had taken the key cards with her, but Jack tried to use his clearance for the lock. “I don’t think this’ll work, love,” he said finally.

“Eh, let me,” Rumlow said. He entered some sort of override and the door opened for him.

“How’d you do that when he can’t?” Darcy asked.

“Magic,” Rumlow said cryptically.

“He’s my boss,” Jack said, less cryptically.

“Oh,” Darcy said. She wrote herself a note to snag a key card of her own for emergencies like Thor returning and Jane being single-minded in her quest for hot Asgardian nookie. Someone in SHIELD’s mail delivery system had brought Jane’s internal packages and memos, too. They were in an office mail container by the door. Plus, two wrapped boxes. “Oh, our Secret Santa gifts are here, cool. Did you guys want coffee? Jane got us a swanky Stark machine as part of her signing bonus,” Darcy explained.

She made them coffee and put on holiday music--some Elvis, some Chris Isaak, She & Him’s cheery, but relaxed _Christmas Party_ \--as Jack talked. He was really pleasant. Rumlow was quieter, but Darcy couldn’t shake the feeling she recognized him from somewhere. Finally, she had to ask. “Did we meet in New Mexico? Or England?” she asked him.

“Possibly,” he said. He didn’t say anything else.

“Is he always like this?” Darcy asked Jack.  

“If you can believe it, this is him being polite and engaging,” Jack said wryly. “Usually, he just frowns at me or is sarcastic.”

“What part of Australia are you from?” Darcy asked Jack. He smiled. It changed his entire face.

“A little town nobody’s ever heard of called Kurrajong,” Jack said.

“My boyfriend Ian is spending Christmas there now in Sydney,” Darcy explained. “He’s British, but one of his uncles lives in Australia, so he and his parents went for the holiday.” Darcy had been more than a little disappointed that Ian hadn’t invited her, but Ian’s mother didn’t really like her. It was one of the reasons that they hadn’t made it official, even after five years together--the future mother-in-law wasn’t happy. Darcy shook off the thought and sighed.

“It’s a nice place to spend the holidays,” Jack said wistfully. “I always miss the beach at Christmas.” Rumlow and Darcy both laughed at his tone.

“I wish I was there,” Darcy admitted.

“Why didn’t you go?” Jack asked.

“Wasn’t invited. Someone’s mother doesn’t appreciate me,” she said. “At all. Calls me Darvy or Darby on purpose. Sometimes Denise.”

“Oh. Sorry, love,” Jack said. There was an awkward pause.

“That’s too bad, Debbie,” Rumlow said dryly. Darcy laughed.

“You try having a potential mother-in-law who does that!” she said.

“I did,” he grinned. “She called me Rick. It’s one of the reasons I’m divorced.”

“Of many,” Jack said. “Mostly his fault.”

“Not Rock?” Darcy said.

“I think she did go with Brick once,” he said.

“I would have used that as an excuse to be Liz Taylor from _Cat on A Hot Tin Roof,_ honestly,” Darcy said. At his expression, she explained. “Paul Newman’s character--Liz Taylor’s gay husband--was a Brick.”

“Paul Newman played a gay man in an old movie?” Rumlow said. He looked at Jack.

“Why are you looking at him?” Darcy said.

“I’m gay, he depends on me to explain things,” Jack said wryly. “Why do you think Liz Taylor is begging him for sex in a slip, mate? He’s not playing a straight bloke.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that movie,” Rumlow said.

“No culture,” Jack said winking.

“Jack’s right, though. It don’t know how the subtext wasn’t obvious even back then. She’s all, ‘oh Brick, I can’t seen any man but you,’ in her slip, cleavage everywhere, that Liz Taylor face, and he just gets so terrified, he drinks grandpa whiskey,” Darcy said, doing her best breathy Liz Taylor voice.

“That’s not a bad impression,” Jack said.

“I wish my Katharine Hepburn was better, so I could do prank calls as an old rich lady or, like, a Senator from Maine,” Darcy confessed. Jack laughed.

“Why don’t you open your secret Santa gift?” Rumlow said.

“Good idea,” Darcy said. “And if this sucks, I’ll tell Jane it’s hers,” she joked. She tore off the snowflake-patterned paper with enthusiasm. Darcy was expecting bubble bath or antibacterial hand soap in a holiday scent, so the square box had surprised her. She opened it. “Ooooooh, my Secret Santa is a freaking _boss_ . I love it!” She pulled out the mug. It was in the shape of a unicorn. It practically matched her t-shirt, an _Inside Out_ tee with the movie’s unicorn, Rainbow, drinking coffee with a bored expression.

“Who’d you get it from?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know, the card is unsigned,” she said. “This must be a girl, though.”

“What makes you say that?” Rumlow asked.

“Because this unicorn mug is perfect,” Darcy said, sighing happily. “Useful and beautiful. I wonder how they knew I liked unicorns?”

“Could be that t-shirt you’re wearing,” Rumlow said dryly.

“I wore it my first day, too, yeah,” Darcy said, utterly unashamed. “I knew I needed to set a tone.” Jack roared with laughter. “I love this mug,” Darcy said cheerfully. She was still grinning at the mug when they left and Jane returned with Thor.

“What’s that?” Jane asked, while Thor gave Darcy a big bear hug.

“My Secret Santa gift, isn’t it great?” Darcy said.

“It’s really cute,” Jane said. She seemed happy and less hungover. Darcy wagered that Thor had taken her to their apartment via Mew-Mew, ‘cause they both looked a little glowy. She repressed her own jealousy that she hadn’t had sex in months and was frequently lonely. Ian was traveling all the time, taking jobs as a top field manager for various astrophysics projects, in addition to his mom and all of Australia bogarting him at Christmas. Ian didn’t mean to neglect her, after all. He was a sweet guy. Nice. Helpful. Carried groceries, ran errands, sometimes cooked, and always helped load the dishwasher. How could she ask for more when he did all that? Besides she saw how Jane got miserable when Thor was gone--she didn’t think the lab would survive both of them in a full funk at the same time. A nagging voice told her that she and Ian were pretty disconnected, but she didn’t know how to fix it.  “What did your Secret Santa get you?” she asked Jane.

“Oooh, cute! It’s a bracelet that benefits clean-water charities. The little clay charm says “READ.” It’s from Sharon,” Jane said.

“It’s very you. That’s a good gift, too. I wonder why my Secret Santa didn’t sign mine?” Darcy wondered.

“Perhaps they forgot,” Thor said, making himself a cup of coffee.

“Don’t you throw this one,” Darcy said, hugging it to her chest. “It’s my baby!” He grinned.

“I shall never,” he said. “May I throw the plain, boring ones?” he asked, picking one up. They were some sort of dull free mugs given to SHIELD by a weapons contractor.

“Can he?” Darcy asked Jane.

“If you clean up after yourself, yes,” Jane said.

“I wonder if Steven should like to throw them with me?” Thor mused.

“Go ask him!” Darcy said. She wanted to see Fury’s face when he caught Thor corrupting Captain America.

 

She called Ian that night to tell him how they were settling in. “G’day, Darce!” he yelled. There was noise in the background.

“Are you drunk?” Darcy said, laughing. “That sounds like steel drums!”

“Yes!” Ian yelled. “Australia is--Australia’s the best place.” He had all the seriousness of a totally smashed person. “I’m so happy here, Darce. I’ve never been so happy!”

“Good,” Darcy said. In the background, she could hear a bluesy cover of “Jingle Bells.”

“That’s what I have to--to--tell you,” Ian stuttered.

“What’s wrong?” Darcy said. “Are you crying?”

“A little,” Ian admitted.

“Why?” Darcy said.

“I’m staying here, Darce! It’s where I belong. I got a job offer and uh--uh--I--” Ian stuttered.

“You met someone?” Darcy said sadly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Darce.”

“Me, too.” When he hung up, Darcy called Jane. “You are not going to believe what just happened,” she told the other woman. Jane came over with Thor immediately.

“We should hit him with Mjolnir!” Jane said. She was mad.

“Aye!” Thor said. “It is most disloyal and disrespectful. For two years--” he began.

“Yes, yes, you looked for each other. Your love is pure and true,” Darcy said. “I can’t even trust him at a major holiday. But you two are special. I’m just regular. The only special things that happen to me are when I’m Jane and Thor adjacent,” she told Jane.

“Bullshit. You’re very special,” Jane said.

“Nah,” Darcy said. She waved dismissively with her hand. “Nothing extraordinary going on in my life.”

 

Darcy thought the unsigned Secret Santa gift was a fluke, but all that week, gifts started popping up in her mailbox or via courier: first, the unicorn mug, then cupcakes from a bakery, sent anonymously. A bag of vanilla snowflake coffee in the morning. A popcorn tin one afternoon. They were never signed with a name, but the handwriting was the same as on her Christmas gift. Darcy shared it all with Jane and Thor and they puzzled over the oddity. “You don’t know?” she asked Thor. “You can’t sense it with your fertility wahoo?”

“Wahoo?” Jane repeated.

“I have no such wahoo. I could ask Heimdall--” Thor began, but Jane shook her head violently.

“No, that’s okay. I’m enjoying the mystery,” Darcy lied. Jane would kill her if Thor left again.

She happened to see Jack as she was coming into work after getting Jane’s lunch, so she asked him. It wasn’t Jack, obviously. He had a boyfriend named Roger.

“Do you know who’s my Secret Santa? They’ve been sending me stuff?” she said. She’d decided to ask around. The mystery was killing her.

“No idea,” Jack said. “Sorry, love.” Sharon didn’t know, either. Neither did Cameron Klein in Special Tactics and Analysis, Lisa in Accounting, or that girl with the lip piercing who apparently loved to flirt with Captain America. That gave Darcy an idea.

 

She found Steve with Thor in the gym. “Hey, Cap!” she called. He was hitting a bag. “I need your assistance. For America!”

“It is my Lightning Sister, Darcy,” Thor clarified, as Darcy padded over with her coffee.

“We saw each other in passing. Hello, Miss Lewis,” Steve said politely

“Your snacks, big bro. That’s five sandwiches, one soup, and a bread bowl. The soup goes in the bread bowl,” she explained. “They’re a one thing, like salads and croutons.” Captain America grinned at the ceiling.

“Aye,” Thor said, nodding. He peered into the bag. “Verily, it is a bowl of bread!”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said.

“Is the spoon made of bread as well?” Thor asked.

“No, plastic spoon.”

“We’ll help him,” Jack said politely from across the room. STRIKE Alpha was working out in the gym, too.

“Thank you!” Darcy called.

“Easier than teaching Cap to use a phone,” Rumlow said slyly.

“I’m getting good at email,” Steve said. Then he smiled wryly at Darcy. “How can I help you, Miss Lewis?” he asked.

“Hello,” she repeated. “You have that good hearing, right?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” Steve said.

“I need you to keep your ears peeled for information on the identity of my Secret Santa,” she explained. “They’ve been sending me lots of presents, all anonymously.”

“Really?” Steve said.

“Clearly, it’s because I’m adorable,” Darcy said, “but I’d like to bake them some brownies as a thank you or something.”

“Sure,” Steve said, looking her up and down.

“You’ll help?” she said.

“I also like brownies,” he said.

“Deal,” she said. “You use your bat ears, I’ll keep you in brownies,” she said. They shook on it.

“We’ll track down the culprit,” Steve said.

“Don’t hit him or anything, I’m really enjoying it,” she admitted.

“That so? I thought you had a boyfriend?” Steve asked.

“Nope, we just broke up. Technically, I don’t even know who it is, so that’s not cheating even if Ian and I were still together,  is it?” Darcy asked. “What would FDR say, Cap?” He laughed.

“I have no idea and considering the circumstances of his death, better not ask him,” Steve said.

“Ooooh, I forgot!” Darcy said, laughing.

“What?” Jack said. Rumlow was helping Thor pour soup into his bread bowl at the edge of one of the sparring rings.

“He, uh, died on vacation with a lady friend,” Steve said.

“Not Mrs. Roosevelt,” Darcy said.

“Nope,” Steve said. They looked at each other, grinning, for a minute. Looking down out of sudden burst of self-consciousness at Steve’s beaming smile, Darcy realized that she was standing in the middle of the gym in the bedroom slippers she normally wore at her desk when her feet were tired. Whoops.

“Thanks, Cap!” Darcy said. She turned to leave.

“Why are you wearing penguin slippers, Miss Lewis?” Steve asked.

“I just like penguins!” Darcy said back. “I’m gonna call around see if I can find bread spoons. That’s a good idea,” she told Thor as she left. The STRIKE guys laughed.

 

A few days later, she got a little Swarovski charm necklace with a tiny sparkly penguin. He was adorable. Of course, since she’d walked all over the building in her slippers, that wasn’t a clue, either. “Is it weird that this is fun?” she said to Jane, looking at it in the bathroom mirror when they went together. “I have no idea if it’s a man or a woman, even.”

“It’s a man,” Jane said authoritatively.

“Why?” Darcy said.

“A woman would totally ask you out and _then_ send you great presents when you said yes, I think?” Jane said, furrowing her brow. “I feel like a lesbian would be more sensitive to being misread as, at best, a Sugar Daddy, and at worst, creepy.”

“Do you think this person”--Darcy still wasn’t 100% on board Jane’s man theory--”wants me to have sex with them?” she said.

“Duh,” Jane said.

“Is it bad if I'm not sold on that, even if I ate the cupcakes? And the popcorn?” Darcy said.

“Blame Thor for eating the stuff,” Jane said. “Besides, you didn’t ask for this, he’s giving it.” Darcy sighed.

“I want to keep you,” Darcy told the necklace.  "You're adorable."

 

Jack laughed when she repeated that detail to him in the breakroom as they got coffee later. “I mean, I know it’s not the rightest thing to do, keep presents from a stranger, but it’s fun,” Darcy admitted. “Those cupcakes were good and Mr. Penguin is cute.”

“She’s very good at being a sugar baby,” Jane joked.

“Stop that,” Darcy said. “Don’t tarnish our special bond, whoever it is, with cheap sex. This person _knows_ me and they haven’t asked for anything.”

“What if it’s Fury?” Jane suggested. Jack roared with laughter.

“Phhft, no way, Althea would kill him,” Darcy said.

“Who?” Rumlow said, looking up from his newspaper.

“His wife!” Darcy said. “I ran into them yesterday, grocery shopping, she’s awesome. He’s totally terrified of her. So cute.”

“Oh,” Rumlow said, looking stunned.

“I didn’t know he even had a wife,” Jack said. He looked at Brock.

“Four kids, too. I wonder how this person is finding out what I like?” Darcy mused.

“What about your Pinterest?” Jane said.

“Ooooooooh,” Darcy said. “I guess that’s possible?”

“How do people in this organization hide their families, anyway? Nobody sees them at Target or at the movies?” Jane asked.

 

“What if it’s the friendly guy from Accounting?” Darcy said to Jane one afternoon.

“George?” Jane asked. “No, he’s seeing Penelope in R&D.”

“Ugghhhh, this is going to kill me!” Darcy said. “Who bought you?” she asked the little penguin necklace. He didn’t respond, just gazed up at her with little adorable crystal eyes. Jane laughed.

 

The next present was a set of cactus shaped cookie cutters, with a note that said _I’ve heard you bake_? “This is totally baffling,” Darcy said.

“Uh-huh,” Jane said.

“I wonder if you could cut out brownies with these?” Darcy asked.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Jane said.

“Nuh-uh,” Darcy said.

“Are too,” Jane said.

“This mystery is killing me,” Darcy insisted. 

 

Darcy made brownies and brought them to work, though. “I need to set up a camera in the breakroom, see if someone looks happy,” she told Jane. “I saw Steve and gave him his tray of brownies, he still hasn’t heard anything.”

“I think it’s Steve,” Jane said.

“What?” Darcy said.

“I think he’s your Secret Santa,” Jane repeated.

“What?” Darcy said.

“Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? He sees you in those slippers, he gets you a penguin.”

“Yes, I was wearing the slippers,” Darcy said slowly. “I think I need to sit down now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Penguin: https://www.swarovski.com/en-US/p-5412367/Little-Penguin-Pendant-Multi-colored-Rose-gold-plating/?gclid=EAIaIQobChMIipfYlrCv3wIVCl6GCh0SkgR7EAQYASABEgKZD_D_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds
> 
> Cactus Cookie Cutters: https://www.etsy.com/listing/583812802/cactus-cookie-cutter-set-of-3-for-star?ref=search_recently_viewed-5


	2. Refined White Sugar Is The Cocaine of Santa's Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

The next day, Darcy went looking for Jack. He’d mentioned that he sometimes worked out around six on slow days. Jack was a helpful sort of person, Darcy thought. He would help her. Jane was planning to Science well past quitting time and, according to the schedule, STRIKE Delta and Echo were on the on-call rotation for emergencies, so STRIKE Alpha was in town, pending global crisis. Darcy ventured down into the SHIELD gym sector for STRIKE teams with chocolate chip cookies. She wasn’t above a bribe, too. “Is Jack here?” she asked Rumlow. “I--uh,” she said, when he turned. He was punching a bag, too. That, apparently, was their big thing down here. Except Rumlow, unlike Steve, wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“You were looking for Jack?” he said. “He left about fifteen minutes ago. He and Roger have a Christmas dinner thing with the other decorators.”

“Other, uh, decorators?” Darcy said, trying to find her words when there were so many sweaty muscles on display. He was sweating so much, he looked like he was wearing baby oil. How was he not dehydrated? Did he drink the baby oil?

“Roger’s an interior decorator,” Rumlow said. “Fancy DC stuff. Senators’ houses and shit.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, deflating. “Boo.”

“What’s wrong?” he said. “Not a fan of politics?”

“Um, no, actually, I was, uh, a political science major back in the day, so I have a love-hate relationship with the political system and those grainy cameras on C-Span and Mitch McConnell’s weird neck thing. Living in DC is fun for me,” she explained.

“Really?” he said.

“Well, not the traffic and the corruption and the expensive housing, but, um, weirdly, yes? I really want C-Span to get better cameras on the floor. I need a close up on faces during big votes! Everything’s from middle distance. But I was looking for Jack because I was hoping he’d help me investigate my mystery,” Darcy said.

“Your what now?” he said.

“My Secret Santa thing,” she said. “Jane thinks it’s Cap.”

“And you don’t?” Rumlow said.

“No--er, um, well, I am shook. I didn’t know Captain America was an option. Does he even date, like, regular people? Would you like a cookie? Or a shirt?” Darcy said. If he put on more clothes, she thought her sentence clarity rate would increase. Possibly. He laughed.

“I don’t eat refined white sugar or hide the results of my not eating refined white sugar, Lewis,” he said wryly. “What would be the point of turning down a chocolate chip cookie if I can’t also be shirtless?”

“Okay, that is actually a reasonable point,” she admitted. “I can see your logic. No cookie, shirtless. Eat a cookie, you wear shirts. I’ll eat your cookie then, just to spare you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” he said. He grinned. “I can help you with your mystery.”

“You can?” Darcy said.

“Yeah, sure. Wait here, I’ll grab a shower and we can talk strategy for uncovering your mystery gifter. Foster works late, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, she’ll be here until at least eleven, when I drag her out of here kicking and screaming, probably,” Darcy said. “Maybe later.”

 

He disappeared into the shower areas and Darcy ate a cookie. Then she looked around at the gym stuff. She was not a gym person. What was this stuff even for? She went over and messed with one of the machines. It looked like it was designed to pull you apart.  She yanked on one of the weight bar thingies. “Ooof!” she said. It didn’t budge. She wiggled it a little. “Nothing, huh?” Then she went over to one of the rowing machines that had arm pulleys and plopped down. “I’m Chuck Norris and I love my Bowflex!” she announced, sluicing it up and down. “Whoooosh,” she said, along with the water noise. “For just ten easy payments of $49.99 plus shipping & handling--” she narrated.

“Are you playing with the gym equipment?” Rumlow asked from behind her.

“Ahhh!” Darcy said, letting go of the handle of the rowing machine so it snapped back. She almost fell off the little moving seat. “You scared me!”

“You could see me in the mirror,” he said, jerking his thumb towards the mirrored wall a few feet away.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “I missed that.”

“Do you need a hand up, Chuck?” he asked. “Your rowing posture is terrible by the way.”

“How am I supposed to do it?” she asked, not willing to admit that she really did need that hand up and would probably get up super-awkwardly. Rowing machines were on the freaking ground. He started giving her a mini-fitness lecture.

“Protect your back and keep it as close to a ninety-degree angle as possible,” he said. “Don’t slump or sag, sit up. There you go. You want a slight bend in your knees so they don’t lock, too,” Rumlow said. He adjusted her elbow position. “This is where you start and end, in this form.” He walked her through one or two movements before she decided it wasn’t her thing.

“This is too difficult. I had no idea that rowing a little boat was so hard,” she said, trying to stand up. She wobbled forward and he caught her.

“Whoa, whoa,” he said. “Step over the track, princess.”

“Did you just call me princess?” Darcy said. “Like I’m five?”

“I caught you playing Walker, Texas Ranger with the gym equipment, I think you’re a strange little five year old,” he said dryly. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here before you pull a muscle.”

 

He took her to a pizza place a few blocks from the office. “You can bring back Foster a pizza if she thinks I’ve kidnapped you,” he said.

“Oh, it could be days before she realizes I’m even gone,” Darcy explained. “She gets deep into work and _poof_ she’s in another realm, totally.”

“So, it’s your job to keep her from burning the place down?” he said.

“More or less,” Darcy said. She grinned around her third slice of pizza when his eyes went all big. “What? I eat!” she said. “I tried to diet once, it was the worst four hours of my life and Jane begged me to have a bagel.” He laughed.

“So, you don’t think Cap’s the guy?” he asked.

“We’re assuming it is a guy, which is pretty heteronormative of us, isn’t it?” Darcy said. “Jane has an entire theory that a woman would ask you out, then send gifts.”

“What would be the point of sending anonymous gifts after someone has already said yes to a date?” he asked.

“I think she was thinking they’d be unanonymous gifts,” Darcy said.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “I get it.”

“But to answer your original question, I’m not sure I _want_ it to be Steve. He’s a great guy, but who wants to compete with Peggy Carter?” Darcy said. “Big shoes. His taste in gifts is great, though. That popcorn was the best. Did I offer you some?”

“Yeah, I know. About Peggy, I mean, I didn’t try your popcorn,” Brock told her.

“You do?” she said.

“Ask Sharon. She’s Peggy’s great-niece,” he said. He looked away for a second, as if he was debating whether or not to speak again. “We dated for a bit, it was very casual. But everyone has expectations when your great-aunt founded the agency.“

“She’s related to Peggy? Wow. I can’t imagine,” Darcy said.

“I actually met Peggy once, back when I was a brand new agent,” Brock said. “It’s a funny story. She was already retired. I was supposed to escort her from one part of Triskelion to the auditorium where she was giving a speech.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. He was grinning. “Did you lose Peggy Carter?” she asked.

“No, no,” he said, “but I was so intimidated by her, I was all  ‘Ms. Carter, you’re an inspiration, you’re amazing,’ and she looked at me and asked if I was planning to go into management with my compliant attitude?”

“Ouch,” Darcy said.

“It gets better: I discover that the eighty-something Peggy Carter is a secret smoker.”

“Nooooo,” Darcy said.

“Yes,” Brock said, “because I didn’t stop her from smoking indoors and she set off the damn sprinklers.”

“What did she say?!” Darcy asked.

“I took the blame and she smiled very sarcastically and said I would make an excellent manager,” Brock.

“Whoa,” she said. “Were you just terrified?”

“Pretty much,” he said, looking chagrined. It was really cute. Darcy reached over and pinched Brock. “Ow, what’s that for?” he said.

“You’re really close to multiple WWII icons in the Steve Rogers version of the Kevin Bacon game and you have those abs, it’s very impressive. I wanted to make sure you were real,” Darcy joked.

“Are you flirting with me right now?” he said, grinning.

“Did you want me to be?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he said. He stole a slice of her pizza.

“Hey!” Darcy said. “If you’re going to order cheese-free broccoli pizza, eat your cheese-free broccoli.”

“It’s horrible,” he admitted. “So, you don’t want the Secret Santa to be Cap? What about Brandon from Logistics?”

“Are you kidding? He’s eight feet tall and has that weird center-parted haircut. No way is he my Secret Santa,” Darcy said.

“It was a test,” he said. “What about Dr. Strange, using magic?”

“Nope! Now you’re just suggesting bizarre things,” she said.

“You’ve met him?” Brock asked.

“Uh-huh. He’s Tony, if Tony were raised by British alcoholics instead of American ones. Much classier hostility and watches,” Darcy said.

“That’s, uh, accurate, Lewis,” he said, grinning. “He does spend a lot of money on watches. It’s in his file.”

“You know what fascinates me about Strange?” she asked Brock. He crooked an eyebrow. “How he tolerates the outfit and all the woo-woo jewelry. You know he hates it!” she said. Brock actually barked out a full laugh then.

“So,” Brock said teasingly, “no extremely tall guys, no Vincent Price lookalikes in capes, no Cap, huh? I think that means you’re stuck with me.” He flirted with her fairly relentlessly as he ate some of her actual, good pizza and suggested weird people for her Secret Santa. Then he had her rolling in the floor with crazy STRIKE stores: the time Cap’s shield boomeranged back and knocked Jack unconscious, how he’d gotten stuck in a tree once, the time that an arms dealer--knowing full well who Natasha was--proposed to her as she zip-tied him and hauled him onto a quinjet.

“But, wait,” she said, when he told her another story about how Jack had been accidentally hit by a mortified Steve, “why is Jack always getting getting hit by Captain America?”

“I think he has a little man crush and it distracts him. I keep telling him to duck,” Rumlow said, laughing.

“But you aren’t distracted by Natasha?” she asked him.

“I’m scared of Natasha,” he said cheerfully. “That’s a totally different thing.” She laughed. Darcy expected him to make a move after dinner, given how he was loading on the charm, but he merely looped an arm around her as they walked back to work and carried Jane’s pepperoni pizza up to the lab. “Oh,” he said seriously, as they got on the elevator, “there’s one guy that I haven’t thought of?”

“Who?” Darcy said, excited at the possibility. She looked at him. He looked solemn.

“Batman,” Brock said.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I fell for that!” she said. She swatted at him and he ducked.

“You’re very gullible,” he told her.

 

“Jane, Rumlow and I got you pizza,” Darcy announced. Jane looked up from her laptop and blinked.

“Pizza?” Jane said. “Did you say pizza?”

“Yeah,” Rumlow said, “she did.”

“Thank you,” Jane said, yawning.

“What’s on her nose?” Brock asked quietly.

“Pen ink. Probably,” Darcy said. “She falls asleep sometimes.” She deposited the pizza on the lab table. “Here you go, Jane,” she said. Darcy plopped down the roll of paper towels from her desk and snagged a water from their mini fridge as Jane turned eagerly.

“Pepperoni! Thank you,” the scientist said happily.  She tore off a few paper towels and put them in her lap.

“She’s eating over the box with a roll of paper towels?” Brock said.

“What’s she need a plate for? We ain’t fancy,” Darcy joked. “Did you want a Stark-spresso from our machine or coffee from the break room?” she asked him. She was craving a latte and wouldn’t mind if he stayed. He shook his head.

“I had fun, Lewis, but I’ve got an early training class to teach in the morning,” he said. “Try not to injure yourself in the gym when I’m not around.”

“Okey-dokey,” Darcy said, grinning. She gave him a real hug and he seemed slightly taken aback. She realized that most people probably didn’t put their faces so close to his burned side. "You okay?"

“Yeah,” he said quietly. He looked at Jane eating. “She eats like Thor,” he said.

“Nope,” Darcy whispered, “he models his Midgardian table manners after her. It’s hilarious. Everyone refuses to believe me, because she’s so delicate.” He snorted and rubbed her back.

“Take care, princess,” he said.

 

“What happened? Was that a date?” Jane asked, when he’d left.

“Ummm, I don’t think so?” Darcy said. “We mostly talked about my Secret Santa’s real identity, when he wasn’t telling me funny stories about Steve accidentally injuring poor Jack.”

“Who does he think it is?” Jane asked, gnawing on a bit of pizza crust.

“He keeps suggesting Batman.” Darcy giggled and turned on the espresso machine.

“What?” Jane said.

“Batman!” Darcy repeated. “He also suggested Stephen Strange.” Jane groaned. She’d met Dr. Strange at some scientific galas, pre-cape, when he’d been a huge asshole. He’d actually handed Jane his glass and asked for a refill, treating her like his own personal waiter.

“If Strange is your Secret Santa, I’ll portal him,” she said grimly. “Straight to hell.”

“Couldn’t he just portal himself back?” Darcy said.

“He would fall in love with you, just to piss me off. He’s like that,” Jane said.

“Who’s in love with me?” Darcy asked, as she worked the milk steamer. “Not Ian.”

“Ian’s a jerk. Your Secret Santa, aka Steve Rogers. Probably also Rumlow based on the face he made when you front hugged him.”

“Oh, no! Not one of my deadly and too-seductive front hugs,” Darcy said, laughing.

“He did look funny when you touched him,” Jane said.

“It’s probably those burns he has around his eyes and his general aura of ass-kickingness. I bet people don’t hug him often enough,” Darcy said thoughtfully. She tended to hug people in goofy ways: squeezing them like boa constrictors, ruffling their hair, even hopping on Thor’s back for the occasional piggyback ride. 

“And Strange, who is in love with you for his own nefarious reasons because he was an asshole long before he was Disco Dumbledore,” Jane said bitterly. She punctuated her sentence by tearing a bit of pizza crust with her teeth.

“You are too funny,” Darcy said.

 

***

 

The next day, Darcy’s Secret Santa sent more popcorn. Also, a canister of hot chocolate. He was a great secret Santa. She wanted to corner Steve and flirt with him a little while dropping hints about popcorn or cocoa, just to see if he blushed and looked guilty, but he was surprisingly hard to track down. She saw STRIKE Alpha all the time and Natasha Romanoff pretty frequently, but not Captain America. Darcy started hugging Brock whenever she saw him, too. Sometimes, it was a brief arm squeeze as or a half-hug as they passed in the hallway, but she guilted him into letting her full-on hug him all the time. Jack thought it was hilarious. She was squeezing him in the hallway outside the lab that week, when he asked if she’d seen Steve yet. “Nope. Why?” Darcy asked. “Have you heard anything, gossip-wise?”

“Nope,” he said. “Just curious if you had new clues.”

“I’ve asked around so much, other people are bringing me gossip,” Darcy said. “Cameron Klein had a hot tip about Mike in Analytics--”

“Hot tip?” Brock said, arching an eyebrow.

“Perv,” Darcy said, laughing at his dirty expression.

“You working late tonight?” he asked.

“Is the sky blue?” Darcy said.

“She doesn’t slow down around the holidays?” he said, looking surprised.

“She’s tougher than the postal service. The stars recognize no human calendar, my friend,” Darcy told him. Brock shook his head and laughed.

“I’ll stop by and see you tonight, ask around about Rogers,” he said. 

 

He arrived at 6:30 with food for Jane. “Foster, I’ve brought you food again, but I require your helpful assistant as collateral,” he said.

“Sure,” Jane said distantly.

“She has no idea you’ve just said anything,” Darcy explained.

“How long before she realizes?” he asked.

“Hours, possibly days, if the Science! Is compelling enough,” Darcy said. “I could disappear through a portal, I think she’d realize by Tuesday or Wednesday of next week.”

“Good,” he said. “I’ll have you back by ten.” Darcy left a note for Jane on the Chinese food.

“Bye, Jane!”

“Bye, Foster,” Brock said.

“Sure, okay,” Jane said.

“Where we going?” Darcy said, as they walked across the parking garage.

“Somewhere fun,” he said.

“Oh, nooooooo,” Darcy said.

“What?”

“Fun for you is some sort of terrible Krav Maga thing, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Not always,” he said, looking a little offended. “I’m a normal guy. I do normal things.”

“Cheese-free broccoli pizza is normal?” she asked.

“That was just a bad version. I’ve had good cheese-free,” he insisted, unlocking his SUV. He opened the door for her. Darcy crossed her arms and stood still.

“I demand to know our next location---whaaaaaaa,” Darcy said. He picked her up and deposited her in the passenger seat. “This is kidnapping!” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m kidnapping you now.”

 

Upstairs in the lab, Thor snuck up behind Jane and kissed her. “Hey!” Jane said. “Oh, hi.” She kissed him back. “Where’d you go?”

“I have just been to see Heimdall about an incident of terrorism. They have sent Steve, Natasha, and STRIKE Charlie to handle it, but I came back for dinner.” He had made it a new policy, to Fury’s displeasure. But Jane was happy. Her notions of Thor being “home for dinner” extended until midnight, so it was fairly flexible. “Where is Darcy?” Thor asked. Jane looked around.

“Darcy? She was just here. Where did she--oh, Chinese!” Jane said.

“Do you know why has she left with Commander Rumlow?” Thor asked, grinning as he read the Post-It. Jane shrugged.

“They’re trying to figure out if Steve is her Secret Santa,” Jane said. “Also, they’re, like, weird friends? I don’t get it.”

“Hmmm,” Thor said, looking canny.

 

“This is a movie theater,” Darcy said, as Brock parked the car.

“Yep,” he said.

“You abducted me to take me to the movies?” she said.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “I thought you’d like this new _Grinch_ cartoon and I’m not going with Rollins or Grant.”

“Yeah, it would totally undermine your credibility as their commander when you cried over Cindy Lou Who missing Christmas, wouldn’t it?” she teased.

“I never cry at movies,” he insisted.

“Not even _Rocky_?” Darcy asked. “C’mon, I know you have. He’s yelling “Adriaaaaaaaaannn!” and you don’t get a little weepy?” she asked.

“I’m not an Italian-American stereotype,” he insisted. He was quiet as they walked into the theater. “Okay, maybe, I cried a little…” he said, as they bought popcorn.

“I knew it!” Darcy said. “He cried at _Rocky,_ “ she told the kid working concession.

“Shhh, be quiet, Lewis,” Brock said.

“I think this calls for candy. Junior Mints, please,” she said.

“And _Marley & Me _, Jesus H. Christ,” Brock muttered, as they walked down the ramp into the theater. “After that, Sharon wouldn’t let me see movies with real dogs.”

“I never see those,” Darcy said. “Only cartoon dogs and even then, I read the reviews first.”

“That’s a good policy,” he admitted. “I should make that a rule.” Darcy nodded.

 

“Hey,” Darcy said, when she arrived back in the lab that night. “Brock took me to a movie. I brought you my extra popcorn refill,” she told Thor. He was smiling happily. “Did you guys have sex in here?”

“Wha--no, not this time,” Jane said.

“We ate noodles of the lo mein and had a session of the makeout,” Thor supplied. “Did you enjoy your movie?”

“It was great, we saw that new version of _The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,_ ” Darcy said.

“Any news about Steve?” Jane asked. Darcy shook her head.

“Nope. I wonder how he gets the stuff here if he’s never around?” she mused.

“As long as it’s not Strange…” Jane said.

***

 

Darcy snuck up behind Brock and wrapped her arms around his back as he made coffee in the break room. Brock actually yelped in surprise. “What the fuck?” he said.

“Hi, I’m surprise-hugging you now,” she said, tucking her chin against his shoulder.

“Why?” he said, relaxing. She shrugged.

“You seemed like a person who likes surprises in addition to my hugs?” she said innocently.

“I do not--” he began.

“Really? I thought you liked _The Grinch_ , too,” Darcy said with mock surprise. It had been a few days since they’d seen the movie.

“I kinda do, but for God’s sake, don’t tell anybody,” he said. She giggled.

“This is going to be our thing now,” she told him. “Surprise hugs and me sneaking you off for secret fun. Merry Christmas!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but he rubbed her forearm, she noticed. “You’re lucky I didn’t break your nose,” he said, after a minute. “Just instinctively.”

“Why not?” Darcy asked.

“I could tell it was you,” he said. “You yelled ‘Cameron!’ in the hallway.”

“Oh, yeah, I was bringing some brownies. You want some?” Darcy asked. She’d set them on the table behind him.

“Refined white sugar, Lewis, refined white sugar,” he said.

“The cocaine of Santa’s Village, my friend,” she said, letting go and squeezing his waist for a fraction of a second. “That’s how the toys get made,” she said, wiggling as she cut the brownies with a butter knife. He turned to watch her.

“The cocaine of Santa’s Village?” Brock said, crossing his arms and looking at her.

“Yup,” Darcy said. “Smuggled by reindeer. All part of an elaborate North Pole-based cartel. Busted by the FBI in Operation Snowglobe--” Brock snorted.

“Is that brownies?” one of the STRIKE guys said, leaning into the door. “I love brownies.”

“See? Grant likes brownies. Grant, your boss is snubbing my cooking.”

“I’m not getting in the middle of that. But can I still have a brownie?” Grant said.

“Of course,” Darcy said. “Brownies for everyone!”

“You’re a drug pusher,” Rumlow told her wryly.

“I’m the El Chapo of baked goods,” Darcy said. “The the Chapo? I wonder what Chapo means?”

“Shorty. It means Shorty,” Grant said. He spoke Spanish.

“The the Shorty? Lewis, that’s perfect,” Rumlow said.

“Phhfffft,” Darcy said. “I’m going back to the lab now. We’ve been Short Jokes Free Since 2011. It’s a rule.”

“I didn’t make a short joke!” Grant said.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving the brownies,” Darcy said, smiling at Grant.

“Well, don’t say goodbye to me or anything,” Rumlow called as she disappeared down the hallway.

“You’re dead to me now,” Darcy told him.

 

That afternoon, Darcy finally ran into Steve while she was picking up a delivery of new equipment for Jane. It turned out he’d been out of town, on some sort of Avengers-type training exercises at Tony’s new upstate facility. Darcy got the impression they were like superhero workshops. Not everyone who was an Avenger was also an official SHIELD employee. Tony was a free agent, of course, because of his issues with authority figures, Rhodey and Sam Wilson were military-affiliated, those nice Maximoff kids were at a special school for gifted kids, Bucky was being treated in Wakanda, etc. It was a logistical challenge to coordinate schedules, she imagined. “Hi, Cap!” she said, struggling to hold onto the heavy box.

“Good morning, Miss Lewis,” he said politely. “Can I carry that for you? It’s as big as you are.”

“Oh em gee, you’re so polite, it’s ridiculous. Thanks! Call me Darcy,” she said. He took it from her gently.

“You really do like penguins, huh?” Steve said, holding the heavy electrowhatsitsmeter like it weighed nothing. He looked at her necklace. Was that a hint, she wondered?

“Oh, yeah, I love them. I cried at _Happy Feet_ ,” Darcy admitted. “But that was a weird time. It was my first freshman year and second major. They used to show older movies at an on-campus theater in the student center, so I would go when I felt sad.”

“Your first freshman year?” Steve said.

“I was sort of on the five year plan already. I switched majors four times and then New Mexico happened, so I didn’t graduate officially until 2012…” Darcy shrugged. “I just roll with things.” Steve grinned.

“Useful life skill,” he said. “Tony says hello, by the way. So does Vision.”

“Vision actually said hello? I mean, Tony loves me, but Vision?” Darcy asked as they walked.

“He, uh, said ‘please convey my greetings to Dr. Foster and Miss Lewis,’ or something like that?” Steve said. Darcy grinned slyly.

“That means he still loathes and despises us,” she explained.

“That so? Why?” Steve said. He looked amused, Darcy thought.

“Well, look, I know he can wield Mew-Mew and all that, but he doesn’t understand girl boundaries. Like, at all. He needs an HR workshop. He’s all over Wanda, doing his creepy hover--”

“Uh-huh,” Steve said.

“Remember when they came to stay with us in Norway after Helen Cho saved Pietro from his Sokovian injuries?” Darcy said. Thor had brought them to stay with Darcy and Jane, because the twins were still a little stressed around Tony.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“He called and skyped her every single day, it was actually freaky. Poor Wanda’s been through so much, she doesn’t know how to rebuff heavy-handed advances, you know? She felt bad if she didn’t talk to him when he called and then he wouldn’t stop calling. Jane would say, _Wanda, give me the damn phone,_ in that way she does, but Wanda just couldn’t bring herself--”

“She’s too nice a girl for her own good, really,” Steve said.

“Exactly! So, we were brainstorming solutions for her and Pietro. I wanted them to go to school in the Caribbean or something? Somewhere warm and salty. They’d have fun and prolonged exposure to salt water might rust out Vision, so he’d have to take breaks. That was when Heimdall mentioned to Thor that that boarding school might be the right place for them, just to let Wanda get some air,” Darcy said. “The Xavier dude is apparently very strict about outside visitors and student privacy. So, Vision blames me and Jane, I think?” Darcy finished.

“I’ll have to watch my back, make sure I don’t upset you and Jane, if you can outfox Vision,” Steve said, chuckling.

“It was less difficult than you’d think. Apparently, he’s not thinking with his vibranium brain when it comes to Wanda,” Darcy snarked. Steve laughed even harder. He was still laughing when Darcy and Jane reenacted Jane trying to wrest the phone from a guilty Wanda once they’d carried Jane’s stuff into the lab. Rumlow came in, evidently looking for Steve, during their story about one particular incident. He grinned at Jane and Darcy, play-fighting over an unseen phone.

“So, we’re fighting over her letting me tell him off. Finally, Pietro actually runs in and snatches the phone,” Jane said, laughing. “Only he did it so fast that none of us realized what had happened. Wanda looks at her empty hand and goes ‘what did you do, Jane?’ and I’m like, nothing, and she is insistent--”

“She thought Jane had portaled her cell phone!” Darcy said. “Pietro came back in, whistling all innocently, and didn’t confess until Thor called for Heimdall.”

 

“Why don’t you ask Steve out?” Jane suggested. Rumlow had told him that Fury wanted to speak with him and Steve left, while Brock hung around. He’d been helping Darcy and Jane move the equipment.

“You could,” Brock said, eating some of the Secret Santa caramel corn.

“You want hot cocoa?” Darcy asked. He shook his head. “It’s sooooo good,” Darcy chided. “You’re missing out.”

“C’mon, Darce,” Jane said. “Steve keeps looking at you and smiling. He’s got to be the Santa.”

“Captain America smiles at everybody, I’m not convinced,” Darcy insisted.

“Why not?” Brock said.

“Eh, I dunno. It’s really too bad the love of his life is so much more badass than me,” Darcy told them, shrugging.

“You want to see a movie tonight?” Brock asked.

“Sure,” Darcy said.

“I am I still on the No-Hug List?” he asked before he left.

“Nope.” She bounced over squeezed his neck. “Ahhh, Brock!” she yelled, jerking back. He’d tickled her.

“I’ll pick you up. You realize you’re the only woman at SHIELD not desperately making a play for Cap? You think on that,” he said teasingly, tapping the door frame as he left the lab.

“What are you trying to say?” Darcy called.

“Maybe that’s what your Secret Santa likes best!” he said.

 

“If Steve is the Santa, why doesn’t he ask me out?” Darcy wondered aloud.

“Well, if you would stop hugging Rumlow in public so much, he might be encouraged to ask you out,” Jane said quietly. “You two are always hanging out.”

“Please, that was barely a hug. I wasn’t going to give Brock one until he asked, he snubbed my brownies this morning--”

“Uh, Darce?” Jane said. “Steve’s left you something.” There was a small wrapped present on Darcy’s desk.

“How did he do that?” Darcy said, stunned. “I didn’t see him go near my desk!”

“Open it,” Jane commanded.

“You are very bossy,” Darcy said.

“I am your boss,” Jane said.

“Oh my God, Jane. Jane!” Darcy said, laughing.

“What?” Jane said.

“This is hella cute,” Darcy said. It was two of those Alex and Ani wire bracelets. The little charm on one said “Raised by Elves,” while the other had a unicorn.

“I didn’t think you liked those wire bracelets?” Jane said.

“I’ve changed my mind, these are adorable,” Darcy said.

“Is it because they came from Captain America?” Jane said.

“Hush, the unicorn one benefits the children, it’s for charity,” Darcy said.

“You made fun of people for those bracelets,” Jane pointed out.

“I was so wrong, Janey,” she said. 

 

She showed Brock the bracelets when they went to the movies. “Anyhow, I don’t care what Jane says, they’re perfect. Did you see him near my desk?” Darcy said.

“Nope,” Brock told her. “But he was there when I got there.”

“Yeah. Popcorn?” she asked him.

“Sure,” he said. She was realizing the smell of popcorn was his personal kryptonite.

“I’m not sure it even is Steve,” Darcy whispered. The theater was playing those turn off your phone warnings.

“Why not?” Brock said. He never silenced his phone; it was a job thing.

“Because I hardly ever see him. If you were sending me all these presents, wouldn’t you want to, you know, see me every now and then?” Darcy whispered. “Unless this is part of the fun somehow?”

“Maybe,” he said, grinning. He ate a handful of popcorn.

“Junior Mints?” she asked.

“Nah, thanks,” Brock said.

“But how does he know what I like so well?” Darcy said.

“Bugged your apartment, probably. Or stalking,” Brock suggested.

“I can tell you spent a lot of time embedded in HYDRA,” she told him. “You’re sneaky-minded.”

“That’s not even a word,” he said.

“Shhh, it’s starting,” Darcy said.

“I can’t believe you talked me into another kid’s movie,” he said. They were seeing _Ralph Breaks The Internet._

“Excuse me, the first _Wreck-It Ralph_ was a classic. You wait and see,” Darcy said.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned that my headcanon for Brock's scarring in this fic is the on-set photos for CA:CW (not the CGI'd finished product)? http://www.justjared.com/photo-gallery/3372322/frank-grillo-is-unmasked-as-crossbones-on-civil-war-set-02/


	3. The Man With The Bag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments and kudos! Merry Christmas and happy holidays to everyone!

Brock admitted that Wreck-It Ralph was an endearing character. “That’s just because it’s John C. Reilly, though. He’s a talented actor,” he told her seriously, as they left the theater.

“He’s talented, yes, but you’re in denial. Kids’ movies are very powerful, emotionally-speaking. I was totally destroyed by the Bing Bong part of _Inside Out._ Totally destroyed!” Darcy said. She gestured with her refill of popcorn for Thor and wobbled as they neared the curb.

“Don’t trip. I can’t take you back to Foster in worse condition than I found you,” he joked. He helped her down from the curb.

“Thank you,” she said. “Brock?”

“Yeah?” he said.

“I don’t want to go back to work!” Darcy whined. “It’s nine fifty-three, I should be having more holiday fun, not sitting under fluorescents, waiting for Jane to crash and finally stop clutching an electromagneticalwhosits like it killed her mother,” Darcy said, her whine turning to laughter.

“Your large adult child getting you down?” he asked, as they got in his car.

“No, I love Jane. I really do. Like, to bits. She’s my sister, you know? I would take a bullet for Jane. But it’s four days before Christmas! I wanna do something more fun than work until SHIELD makes us leave the building,” Darcy said.

“Can Thor take Jane home?” Brock asked.

“Yes, if I text him,” Darcy said.

“So, text him,” Brock said, turning out of the parking lot.

“This is not the way to the office,” Darcy said.

“Nope,” he said. “We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight.”

 

Darcy called the lab and got Thor. “Greetings! You have reached the lab of Jane of the Fosters!” Thor boomed. They’d asked for a special phone line, just for this experience.

“Hi, Thor Bear, it’s Darcy,” she said. “I’m going out with Brock. Can you take Jane home?”

“Aye!” Thor said, sounding oddly chipper. “A most excellent plan!”

“Who is that--” Darcy heard Jane ask. To her surprise, instead of handing the phone to Jane, as he normally would, Thor quickly hung up.

“Enjoy yourselves!” he called, before Darcy heard a distinct click and the dial tone.

“Huh. That’s weird,” Darcy said. “Where we going, my friend?”

 

He took her to a fun bar. “You drink here?” Darcy said. There were Christmas lights all over the place and it had tiki decor. There was a _Magnum, PI_ mural of Tom Selleck.

“Hell yes,” he said. “Can I order you some food?”

“Sure!” Darcy said. It was crowded with people and he had to glare them up one spot at the bar. That was how she found herself sitting in Brock’s lap, drinking mai tais, and sharing spicy potatoes and egg rolls. “This is great,” she whispered in his ear.

“Yeah?” he said. He’d been nodding at someone he’d recognized.

“People always bump me because I’m so short,” she said, leaning against him. “Also, these mai tais and spicy potatoes are incredible. Just delicious.”

“Stop hogging the potatoes,” he scolded, without much emphasis.

“I thought you didn’t eat this stuff,” Darcy said. “I want to marry these potatoes. Or at least have a long-term, committed partnership with them.”

“What about Ian?” Brock joked.

“They love me more than he ever did,” Darcy said seriously.

“Tell me about Ian,” he said. “What went wrong there?”

“I don’t know! He met an Australian. You know how those accents are, they’re irresistible to Americans,” Darcy said. Brock laughed. “But his mother never liked me, so I know that was a thing,” she told him.

“Oh, that’s right, Debbie,” he said.

“Excuse me, my rude mother-in-law name was Darvy, Rick,” Darcy said. “It sounds like a nineteenth-century skin condition!”

He laughed so hard that it shook their barstool. ”My mother would love you,” he said. “She’s always hassling me about settling down.”

“You have a mother?” Darcy said, pretending to be shocked.

“Where did you think I came from?” he said dryly.

“A lab where they make muscles and an inordinate interest in guns,” Darcy joked. People started to stare when he tickled her in response and she squealed.

 

She was on her second mai tai and he’d managed to snag a second chair, when Darcy noticed their reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Brock was smiling as he drank his beer and looked at her. He had the amazing ability to nurse one drink forever, since he was constantly on-call. She was all pink and grinning back. They looked to all the world like a besotted couple. “Why aren’t we dating?” Darcy asked him, the thought suddenly occurring to her.

“What?” he said, almost spitting out his beer.

“Do you not think I’m pretty?” Darcy asked.

“You want to date me?” he said in a low voice.

“Would you date me?” she asked. “Or do you prefer blondes or something?”

“Hold on,” he said. It was still loud in the bar. He waved over the bartender and asked to settle their tab.

“What are you doing?” Darcy said.

“We can talk about this outside,” he said.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “You want to leave? I need to finish this.” She meant her mai tai. _I’ve really stepped in it,_ she thought. _Ugh, bad Darcy! He’s feeling awkward and I’ve introduced tension into the relationship. If he wanted to date, he’d have asked me by now--what is it the magazines say, men decide in six seconds whether they want to have sex with you or not? Which is really unfair. What if you’re having a bad hair day or have a zit?_

“You okay?” Brock said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Darcy said.

“Have the last spicy potato,” he told her gently. _He’s gonna let me down easy. I know it,_ she thought. _He looks...weird. Like he’s about to deliver bad news. Shit. Shitfuckdamn._

  
He insisted on paying for the entire bill, which really convinced her that he was going to brush her off, and then led her outside by the hand. His palms were warm and there was a slight callus on his index finger. “C’mon, I’ll give you hand up,” he said, unlocking his car and helping her into the passenger seat of the SUV.

“Are you mad?”  Darcy asked, worried.

“No, princess,” he said wryly, getting behind the wheel. He leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. Sucking gently at her bottom lip, he grinned. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I met you in your little unicorn t-shirt.”

“Shut up,” Darcy said, leaning into him. She was slightly stunned.

“You wanna go back to my place? Have some real fun tonight?” he asked. His pupils were blown wide, she saw. She could feel the shock and breathlessness of her own expression. _He’s into me? He’s very into me,_ Darcy realized, when he reached over to stroke her thigh. “Come home with me, baby?” he asked again.

“Yeah,” Darcy said.

 

“Shit,” Darcy said, when he was pulling her sweater off on his couch.

“What?” Brock said, pausing and looking up from her cleavage.

“I’m not wearing cute underwear!” Darcy said, laughing. “Also, your apartment is super clean. It’s faintly alarming.” He laughed.

“Help me dirty it up?” he said, practically smoldering at her.

“Ahhhhhh!” Darcy shrieked. “I’m a normal girl. You can’t just unleash your grade-A sexy face on me. I might die,” she said.

“Oh, you’re going to die, baby. You know what the French call orgasm, don’t you?” he asked, kissing her breasts and smiling wickedly.

“Mmm-hmm,’ Darcy said. She’d taken French at Culver.  The French term for orgasm was _la petite mort,_ the little death. Because ecstasy felt like dying and coming back? Darcy had never been sure. It was difficult to concentrate on idiomatic French expressions when Brock Rumlow was sliding down your panties and dipping his tongue in your belly button, anyway. “Oh my God,” Darcy moaned, as his mouth traveled down. He was nibbling at her mound of Venus, playfully rolling the skin between his lips and teeth. He raked his nose between her legs, dragging it across her clit before he pressed against her with his tongue. “You’re incredible,” Darcy told him.

“I know,” he said, laughing. She swatted at him and he dodged her to return to kissing between her legs. He was exploratory, Darcy thought. That was the word. He used his tongue to explore her body, mapping her as she quivered and arched towards him in response. Darcy moaned and swore. Ian had never been an oral sex guy. She hadn’t realized it was that big a deal.

“I didn’t know what I was missing,” Darcy said, moaning slightly as he dipped his tongue into her folds, increasing the pressure slightly. She raked her hands through his hair and he looked up at her.

“Did the British guy not do this for you, princess?” he said.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. He actually smirked around his own tongue. “Are you--are you grinning at me right now?” Darcy said.

“Baby, you’ve been neglected,” he said seriously. “I have work to do. So much work.” He shook his head and his expression was so serious that it made her laugh. In response, he grinned slyly.

 

They were laying in bed together when he asked what she would do about Cap. “Hmmm?” Darcy said, looking up from his chest. She’d been kissing him and tracing the burn scars on his body with her mouth. Being his movie-buddy was great, being his post-movie naked times buddy was even better.

“Steve?” he said. “You’re not worried about Steve?”

“Oh, I totally forgot,” she said.

“Easily distracted?” he asked, grinning.

“I’ll have to let him down easy,” Darcy said. She sighed and looked at her phone on the nightstand. “Text message is probably not the right way to do that, is it?”

“You’d ditch Santa Steve by text for me?” Brock teased.

“Definitely,” Darcy said. It wasn’t even a question. They got along so well.

“That’s very flattering, princess,” he said, pushing her hair out of her eyes and smiling.

“You have the most amazing eyes,” she told him. They were brown with little flecks of green. Unique, she thought. He chuckled and coaxed her back up to his eye level.

“Let me look at your pretty face with ‘em, then,” he said.

“Sure,” Darcy said, feeling oddly embarrassed by the sweetness of his voice.

“What is that face about? Are you going all shy on me?” he said.

“You said I was pretty!” Darcy said.

“You are,” he said, laughing. “Clearly, the British idiot didn’t compliment you enough. More work for me,” he said. He pretended to sigh and act put-upon. “Sex and compliments? That’s a lot of work for a normal girl.” He tsk-tsk’d.

“Shut up!” Darcy said. He rolled her over, so he was on top.

“What was that?” he asked, tickling her.

“Ahhhhhh! Brock,” she muttered,  “you’re going to kill me.”

“Just a little, but you’ll come back to life,” he said, pressing himself inside her again. She made a happy sound and he grinned. “You think you’d like it if I tickled you during sex?” he asked thoughtfully.

“Ahhhh!” Darcy shrieked again, “you didn’t even let me ans--uhhhhhhh, God, that feels so good.” He was moving his hips slowly.

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, leaning down to kiss her mouth.

“Unfair,” she muttered. “Ooooh, you--” Her breath hitched as he moved with more force.

“You like that, princess?” Brock asked. Darcy nodded as she kissed his neck.

 

He woke her up with coffee and kisses. “Uhhh, what time is it?” she asked.

“Five-thirty,” he said.

“Ugh, no,” Darcy said.

“I gotta go to the gym,” he said.

“No,” she said. “Stay with me.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” he said, smirking.

“I’m a bad girl,” Darcy joked. “Spank me.” He groaned.

“I’m too old for a naughty trophy girlfriend,” he said. But his eyes had lit up.

“You want to,” Darcy said, rolling over onto her stomach. She arched her back.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “You’re going to have me all turned around, baby.” She felt his touch, stroking up her ass cheek. He drew back his hand. “You’re sure?” he said.

“Mmm-hmm,” Darcy said, wiggling.

“I’m not,” he said, laughing. “I was embedded in HYDRA, I’m not actually a kinky Nazi, princess.”

 

***

 

When she got to work, her Secret Santa had left her another gift. A big one. She opened the box. “Oh,” Darcy said. “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Jane said.

“A fancy Dooney & Bourke with a Disney pattern,” Darcy said sadly. She petted the handbag. It was stupidly cute.

“You don’t like it? It has puppies!” Jane said. It had all the puppies actually: Lady and the Tramp, the Dalmations, Bolt, even little Stitch. Darcy sort of wanted to cry. Stupid, overly-generous Santa Steve, picking out the perfect gift that she absolutely wasn’t keeping.

“I love it, but I like Brock more. I hope he saves his receipts,” Darcy said, gathering up the tissue paper and putting it back into the gift bag on her desk.

“What are you doing?” Jane said, when Darcy made a sad little sound.

“I wish I could keep this, but I can’t,” Darcy told Jane. “I need to go find Steve.”

“Boo! What kind of boring, ethical sugar baby are you?” Jane complained. “Keep the stuff!”

“Jane,” Darcy said, doing her most appalled voice, “you are a _feminist._ You have a doctorate. What has gotten into you?” If the situation had been reversed, Darcy could imagine herself encouraging Jane to keep presents, but Jane was behaving very wickedly for Jane.

“We were poor for too long,” Jane said. “Poverty changes a person at the cellular level. They’ve done DNA studies. I take free stuff now. You’re the one who taught me to take two cookies at the free cookies for kids thing--”

“What have I wrought? We’re not that poor anymore, Janey,” Darcy said. “We have health insurance and everything.”  
She could tell Jane wasn’t listening. Jane had a canny expression.

“Besides, it’s not like Steve is gonna badger you for sex. He probably just wants a lock of your hair to treasure for the next four decades,” Jane said.

“You’re just going to ignore me, aren’t you? You know, I could totally see Steve doing that with a lock of Peggy’s hair? How sweet,” Darcy said, sighing.

“If Steve does badger you for sex, I’d do it, too,” Jane said. “If Thor hadn’t dropped out of the sky, I’d be chasing Steve Rogers across the lawn.”

“Jane!”

  


The man Jane would chase across lawns was standing outside the break room when she asked if she could have a word. “Sure, Darce,” Steve said sweetly. He was a sweet guy, Darcy thought.

“Steve,” Darcy said, “you’re really a great guy. A good person. And I’ve had a great time with this Secret Santa thing, but I, um, need to ask you to stop.”

“Stop what?” Captain America asked.

“Being my Secret Santa?” Darcy supplied. “I have to give this back to you?” she said, gesturing with the handbag. “And the other stuff, too.”

“What? Darcy, I’m not your Secret Santa. I got Cameron Klein,” Steve said.

“You’re not? I thought it was you,” Darcy said. “Oh, crap! I really need to know who this person is.” She groaned and rocked back on her heels. “What am I supposed to do with you?” she said, looking at the handbag.

“I’d suggest taking the tag off, doll,” Steve said, winking.

“Steve! I can’t take gifts from strange men, I’m--I’m,” Darcy began.

“Strange men?” Steve said wryly.

“Yes,” Darcy said glumly. “Brock pretends not to care, but we’re sort of seeing each other, so I need to--why are you laughing? Steve?” she asked. Steve was literally losing it. He laughed so hard, he actually clutched his stomach.

“Brock Rumlow is your Secret Santa,” he said, grinning. His face had lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Brock?” Darcy said. She felt like the floor had caved in. Brock?!

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I thought you knew by now? I was standing next to him when they passed the hat around for our two divisions. STRIKE units matched with R&D labs. He asked me not to tell you for a bit,” he explained.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Oh.” Brock was her Secret Santa _and_ her secret something something? Holy hell. Darcy was still slightly dazed, but she had the oddest feeling--like she wanted to kiss Brock and hit him with something at the same time. Something soft, though. Like a pillow. From her bed. She was vexed and relieved and delighted all at once. That sneak!  “Wait, _Steve_ ,” Darcy said, “he’s been sneaking around like this and you let him? Oh Captain, my Captain! You deceived me!” Darcy pointed at him, laughing. “You conspired to mislead and deceive! I want your rank downgraded to Sgt. America!” Steve laughed even harder then.

 

When he’d finally gotten control of himself, he kissed her on the cheek and wished her a Merry Christmas.

 

***

Darcy marched down to the STRIKE gym, looking for Brock. He was watching two of the guys drill in hand-to-hand combat exercises. “Lopez, watch how Grant favors his right, use that to your adva--hey, honey,” he said, seeing her marching towards him. “Darcy? What’s wrong?”

“You!” she said. She whacked him in the chest with the handbag. “You tricked me!” she said. She hit him again.

“Hey, hey, don’t hit me with that thing, it was expensive as hell and we haven’t scotch-guarded it yet, princess,” he said. “I’m all sweaty.” The STRIKE guys stopped practice fighting and stared.

“All this time it was you and _you didn’t tell me_ ,” Darcy said, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “You let me blather on and on about who it might be for days and days, all the time it was you!”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “Great, right?”

“I’m mad at you,” she said.

“Really?” he said. “I thought you liked me more than Secret Santa?” He gave her one of those smirks again. “That was nice, I enjoyed that,” he said.

“I just told Captain America I needed to give all the gifts back,” Darcy told Brock. “Captain America! Ugh!”

“You did?” he said, laughing. “Awww, honey.” He tilted his head to one side and looked at her as if she was too adorable for words. That made Darcy a little madder.

“You are in so much trouble!” she yelled, turning on her heel.

“Baby, come back!” Brock said. He followed her as she stomped out of the gym. “C’mon,” he said pleadingly. “Let me explain?” he said, as they got on the elevator.

“You have until the end of this elevator ride,” she told him, crossing her arms and glaring.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he said. She glared more furiously.

“I am not!”

“Yeah, you are. It’s like watching those videos of Ruth Bader Ginsburg lifting weights or a tiny, angry puppy,” he said, chuckling. “Really cute.”

“Ugh!” Darcy fumed.

“I didn’t mean to mislead you--” he began.

“You’re just naturally sneaky and duplicitous?” she asked.

“Possibly,” he said, shrugging. “I left my name off the Secret Santa gift by accident, but you were so thrilled by it. Then I heard your douchey boyfriend had dumped you over the phone, so I thought I’d just play the game a little longer,” he said. “It was just to cheer you up. The popcorn and stuff. The penguin, too, because of the slippers. I could tell you weren’t as sad because you had this mystery you were going around asking everybody about.”

“Oh,” Darcy said.

“I was going to tell you over pizza, but I felt like we just clicked, you know?” he said. “But I’d pretended not to know, so I was sort of fucking stuck playing along--”

“That is such a lie, you could have told me at--” she said, her sentence cut off by his mouth on hers. “Mmmmm,” Darcy said. Then she recollected herself. “Stop surprising me!” she fussed. The effect was slightly spoiled by the way she automatically leaned towards him when he looked down at her, but whatever.

“Okay, no surprises until your birthday,” he said cheerfully, kissing her again.

“You are so annoying when you’re happy and smug,” Darcy told him, nuzzling his neck. "So annoying." She sighed.

“Hush, you love me, you couldn’t stop hugging me,” he said. “You think I’m uh--what did you say last night? Was it magical sex unicorn?”

“If you repeat that at work, I will never let you see me naked again,” she told him.

“Duly noted,” he said, laughing. Then he picked her up and carried her into the lab when the elevator doors opened. Jane and Thor looked up. “Guess who just discovered who her Secret Santa is?” Brock told Thor.

“Aye,” Thor said, grinning.

“Thor! You knew?” Darcy said.

“I didn’t know! Thor!” Jane said.

“Heimdall sees all you have been up to, both of you,” Thor said.

“Ughhhhh,” Darcy said, hiding her face. Heimdall would totally be giving her _a look_ the next time they saw each other. A sly look.

“I’m not embarrassed,” Brock said. “She might be though, she’s very naughty for someone who watches that many children’s movies.”

  


\--The End--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D&B is stupidly expensive, but this puppies print is the cutest thing: https://www.shopdisney.com/disney-dogs-satchel-by-dooney-and-bourke-1491076


End file.
